March Eleventh
by Predominantly Normal
Summary: Kenny's birthday so far is rather boring. That is, until a certain cheerful blonde helps make it more interesting. In more ways than one. Horrific.


**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

**Hey, everyone. I don't know why, but after I seen the YouTube video, 'Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared' this is the first thing that came to mind. There fare actually some references to the video itself, too. Crappy horror I wrote while doing seven other things at once.**

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Kenny blinked awake, flinching at the light streaming in from the broken bits of his ceiling. Apparently, while he was dead, the cardboard covering the holes were stripped away. He briefly wondered if he overstayed his welcome in Hell; Satan's penthouse didn't have a single clock or calendar to keep track of time. The king of darkness probably didn't need to worry about time unless it was another Halloween party he needed to host. Satan's son, Damien was being subjected to a half-year in hell as punishment for calling his father a 'Flaming Fag'. Which, in retrospect, was completely truthful. Kenny was sure he had stumbled upon Satan talking with Hitler for the longest time.

With an obnoxious yawn, Kenny shoved off his findings in Hell for another day, and lazily rolled out of his patched bed. The fabric was worn, and the sides were broken and covered with blue paint. Leave it to Stan to try and make a race car out of his shabby bed. The blonde ambled over to his closet, yanking it open and paying almost no mind when it flew off the hooks and crashed onto his bedroom floor. He robotically selected a trademark orange parka and brown hiking boots, putting them on. The arms of his coat were ripped out, something he decided to do to switch things up. Kyle had complained numerous times on how he'd get hypothermia and die, but that wasn't exactly conflict for an immortal.

Kenny stepped out of his room, heading to the kitchen to check the old calendar hanging on the fridge. Bright red X's were crossed on each day that had passed, thanks to Karen, so it was easy to tell how long he'd been out. He very clearly remembered having a test on Tuesday and getting mauled by a mountain lion right before school started. Lucky break, sans the agonizing pain; he remembered not knowing anything that was going to be on the test. It was now a Saturday, two weeks later. March eleventh, his birthday.

Kenny frowned, knowing that he had in fact stayed a while too long in Hell. None of his friends knew he was alive long enough to worry about getting him anything. Those assholes probably wouldn't have the time of day anyhow. The blonde grunted in annoyance and decidedly planned to spend his birthday on the couch watching 'Full House' and getting high.

With a shrug, he turned on his television and put in one of the 'Full House' box sets that were lying near the base of the small robust television. His family had cable, albeit stolen, but the old VCR's worked better. Kenny lounged back on the couch and threw a Pepsi-Bismol pink blanket around his shoulders. He drifted off into a small nap, letting the sounds of cheesy laugh tracks and 80's music lull him to unconsciousness. So far this was a typical birthday.

A guitar riff from a song Kenny didn't care for woke him up. The blonde opened his eyes and blinked away his drowsiness, arm reaching out to grab his phone. It was right where he left it two week ago; under the couch on the left side. Although it was surrounded by dust bunnies, Kenny could still tell it was exactly where he dropped it. He flipped it open and placed the metallic receiver next to his ear.

"Hello?" His voice was groggy and laden with indifference.

"H-hey Kenny!" A cheerful voice replied, the stutter revealing who the caller was even without ID.

"Butters." Kenny acknowledged, "what did you need?" He added quickly, eager to get back to his nap.

"W-well it's your birthday, right?" Kenny raised an eyebrow, wondering briefly if Butters had been living under a rock for the two weeks he was dead.

"Yeah." He mumbled, slightly intrigued.

"Well golly, why d-don't you come over to my house to celebrate? Everyone helped throw a party for you!" Butters chirped, his jovial voice shining through the earpiece.

"A party? Won't your parents ground you or something like that?" Kenny muttered, remembering the occasion in which Mr. and Mrs. Stotch had grounded their son for placing the rice noodles on the wrong shelf of the pantry.

"G-gee, they wouldn't do that! They told me themselves that I could host a get-together for you!" Butters informed him.

"Is there going to be food?" Kenny asked, patting his skinny stomach. Hey, it was his birthday; he should get something out of a party besides 'social bonding time'. The most social event would probably be an argument about Judaism stereotypes between Cartman and Kyle.

"Oh yeah! I b-baked a cake and everything!" Butters chirped in a singsong voice.

Kenny quickly made up his mind to go to the party, the idea of cake making him smile. Seriously, Hell had good pastries, but they all had human souls in them, and Kenny would prefer a dessert that didn't scream in agony. He ended the call with a short, "be there in a few", and shoved the stained blanket off of him.

Kenny didn't care much for his appearance, barely giving his hair a run-through before walking out the door. The brisk air hit his face, making him flinch. The blonde started to head to Butters' house, humming a small tune.

The trip to the the other's house wasn't that lengthy, and Kenny managed to arrive in short of ten minutes. He quickly stepped through the neatly shoveled driveway. Knocking on the door, the teenager pulled down his parka so he could properly talk without the muffle brought by the orange fabric.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a smiling blonde. The messy tufts of hair were brushed down nicely, managing to cover all of Butter's head. Blue eyes sparkled with elation, almost looking glassy. Butters hadn't grown too much, being the shortest of the small group of friends. He only came to about Kenny's chin, but it fit him in a cutesy sort of way.

"Hey Kenny!" Butters said animatedly, beaming.

"Hey dude." Kenny grinned back. "Where is everyone?" He inspected the younger's living room, which revealed no sign of any of his friends.

"They're all d-downstairs. Oh jeez, we better not keep 'em waiting, huh?" Butters gnashed his knuckles together, a telltale sign that he was nervous. For what didn't really matter at that point in time.

"Guess not." Kenny sighed, taking lead to the basement door. Butter's basement was basically his playroom, and even in the eighth grade he hadn't outgrown it. Kenny had been in the basement on several occasions, and knew that it was covered in pink and cutesy stickers. There was an easy bake oven sitting amongst a bunch of plastic kitchenware and bean bags. Butters had never really grown up, and he'd only stuck to being a kid even more now that the looming threat of adulthood was coming into his life. Mentally and physically, he was growing up just fine; he was passing all of his classes with a nice grade point average in the threes. But he couldn't manage to catch up with the rest of the gang on an emotional level.

"Oh g-great, Kenny!" He grinned, trailing behind the orange-clad teenager. "I know you'll love the decorations!" He added.

The over-enthusiasm was starting to annoy Kenny in the smallest bit, but he brushed it off simply, instead twisting the metallic doorknob and staring into the pitch blackness. The lights had obviously been turned off, and Kenny knew very well that there was a switch at the very bottom of the winding staircase. Rather inconvenient, but it wasn't much to complain about. Kenny began his decent down the dark staircase, smiling at the smell of cooking bakery. The light coming from the doorway was abruptly cut off, making the Teenager turn. He shoved off the sinking feeling in his stomach, taking a small breath and continuing his trek by memory and feel. A quiet clicking sound was heard, probably because Kenny had kicked one of Butters' toys or something.

The only offsetting thing was the eerie silence. Usually if you included his friends in anything, you'd be able to hear Kyle and Cartman arguing, or Tweek freaking out, and you could even sense when Craig flipped someone off. And off course you'd hear Stan trying to be peacemaker and failing in the progress. But Kenny didn't hear any of these noises that he had become so accustomed to. He figured that they were hiding and that their main intention was to jump out and scare him. All he hoped was that he didn't have a heart attack on his birthday.

Kenny reached the bottom of the steps and felt around the wall for the light switch. Once his fingers brushed the plastic device, he pressed down and the lights flickered on, almost failing to work completely.

And once they did finally turn on, Kenny almost did have a heart attack.

The best one-word description of the room would probably be Grotesque or Macabre. The pink walls had red stains splattered across them, and fleshy bits of human inners hung from the ceiling. Even more disgusting things like eyes were hung from the walls like deflated balloons. If Kenny had eaten anything, he would've instantly hurled it back up, but since he hadn't, he was left dry-heaving. His eyes darted around the room, unable to look away however much he wanted to. In the corner of the small now-nightmarish room was a small plastic table.

Sitting around the table were his friends, staring at him blankly with strained smiles. However, Kenny was a rather perceptive person, and upon closer inspection they weren't smiling at all. No; fishhooks were dug into their mouths and pulled backwards, the invisible string creating the illusion that they were grinning. Scotch tape forced their dead eyes open, and some were even yellowing with decay. The only one without such a treatment was a familiar messy-haired blonde, who's eyelids were closed and who's face went slack. Each of them had wires protruding from their wrists and ankles leading to separate wooden pieces like marionettes.

And upon much closer inspection, he realized what Butters meant with the decorations. While increasingly gruesome, everything was set up like party decor. Lungs filled with helium floated in one corner, the flesh dry and disgusting. Intestines were used like streamers, pinned to the walls. The blood splatters were actually sloppy paintings of cutesy things like rabbits and cats. How ironic. Painted toenails were set up around the perimeter of the room, fluorescent lights hiding behind them. However horrifying it appeared, it still had the childish flair Butters was made up of.

Speaking of Butters, he had stepped down the stairs to inspect Kenny's response.

"You don't l-like 'em, do ya? Shucks, knew I shouldn't have overdone the balloons." Butters mumbled, dejected.

Kenny swallowed, knowing he had stepped straight into the lion's den. He didn't want to become Butter's next victim; he had a voice in the back of his brain telling him the seemingly innocent blonde hadn't removed the organs after killing his friends. And having your organs removed probably wasn't like a walk in the park.

"T-they're wonderful." Kenny choked out, his throat dry. "Very... Creative." He added weakly, feeling light-headed.

"Really? You think so?" Butters asked, smiling one of those tiny grins. "I worked real hard on 'em, yes sir." He pointed to the painted nails. "Do you know how time-consuming it is to take these off w-without having skin danglin' off 'em?"

"I could only imagine." Kenny said, voice cracking with effort not to start screaming.

"W-well go ahead and take a seat!" Butters gestured towards an empty beanbag next to Stan and Cartman. "I'll feel like a no-good host if you don't."

Kenny reluctantly obliged, taking a seat and eying the two deceased teenagers next to him. It was so odd, being a habitual child of death, to see someone else sans him dead. Somewhat enthralling and satisfying, knowing everyone who had taken his death for granted was now dead themselves. But nonetheless unnerving.

"We all had a whole b-bunch of fun playing before you arrived, and I wish you could've come e-earlier to play with us." Butters sighed, shrugging and grabbing one of the wooden pieces. "But bygones are b-bygones, right Kyle?" He lifted the handle up and moved it, making Kyle's corpse nod in agreement.

Kenny nodded, chewing his lower lip in nervousness. He suddenly decided it would've been nice to have stayed in Hell a while longer. Even if Satan's son was an annoying little pissant, he was better than Butters and his gruesome party.

"O-oh, I forgot! The cake!" Butters said with a small apologetic glance. He scurried over to the plastic kitchen and opened one of the many small cabinets, pulling out a tin tray with a heavily frosted cake balancing on top.

The blonde stepped back, settling the tin on the plastic table. He snatched up a dull, blue plastic knife and cut through the cake with some difficulty. He slowly dislocated the slice of cake and pulled it back, revealing large pieces of uncooked flesh in the mix. Kenny retched, looking at his friends and wondering if any of them were inside the cake. He'd done horrible things in the past. Disgusting things, which included eating the insides of a manatee, puking it up, and eating the puke again. But nothing he'd ever done for money was like this. His nice resolve crumbled to nothingness.

A cold sweat lined his forehead, and he backed up nervously. He made a quick run for the door, scrambling up the stairs. His hands clasped around the metal doorknob, twisting it and yanking. The door refused to move, however, and Kenny quickly realized that the earlier heard clicking noise was Butters jamming the lock. He heard the echoing tapping of shoes clambering up the spiral stairs.

"That's real rude, Kenny. Y-Yes sir, I go all out of my way to throw a nice party and everything, and you just w-wanna leave?" Butters looked rather dismal, eyes downcast.

"Fuck this!" Kenny yelled, banging on the door as hard as possible and screaming at the top of his lungs. "Help! Mr. and Mrs. Stotch, help! Your son is insane!" He yelped.

"They can't h-hear you, Ken." Butters informed him blankly, frowning. "Golly, where do you t-think I got the ingredients for the cake?"

Kenny gaped, eyes wide. The sweet little innocent boy he knew since he was in diapers had murdered several people. Suddenly, the facade of that childish exterior melted away and revealed what the younger boy was capable of. "You're fucking insane!" He screeched. "Get away from me!"

Butters produced a switchblade from his pocket, clicking the handle switch. The silvery metal shot out, glinting maliciously in the dark. He looked at Kenny in an intimidating way, like a creepy puppet is intimidating to a little child.

"This is MY world." Butters snarled, losing his stutter in favor for an animalistic growl. "Everyone is going to be happy."

"W-what?" Kenny backed himself into the wall, still trying to yank away the doorknob.

"Everyone is happy here." Butters explained, grinning. "Cartman and Kyle don't fight anymore, and Craig doesn't flip anyone off either. Tweek can sleep for once, and Stan is so much more kind to me. And guess what, Kenny?"

Kenny took in a deep breath. "Yes?"

"My parents don't ground me anymore." Butters giggled. "Everything's so perfect, Kenny! And I wanted you to be a part of it all." He beamed.

"I don't want any part in this." Kenny shook his head.

"That's unfortunate." Butters narrowed his blue eyes, scowling. "Because I can't be happy without the last friend in my collection."

In a flash, the blonde lunged forward, catching Kenny by surprise and digging the knife far into his abdomen. Kenny heaved, struggling against the sharp pain in his stomach. He yanked the knife out weakly, ignoring the pulsing wound and trying to land a strike on Butters. The smaller of the two, however, was much faster and managed to twist around, shoving Kenny down the spiral staircase. The orange-clad teenager crashed down the stairs, smashing his head on walls and twisting into odd positions. He coughed weakly, watching in alarm as blood spewed out of his throat. Breathing became more labored, and Kenny tried to avoid heaving because of the deep cut in his stomach. It sucks hurting because you breathe.

Butters stepped down the flight of stairs at a leisurely pace, stopping once he came near Kenny's disfigured body. His smile melted into something of a distasteful frown.

"Oh golly." He murmured to himself. "It looks like I had a little bit too much fun; oh I need to learn how to behave myself." He shook his head sadly. "Oh well, I guess there's always your next birthday to look forward too, right?"

And everything suddenly became black.


End file.
